


Kindle

by MarsInOrbit (mars_lave)



Series: Kindle [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, FebuWhump2021, Found Family, Gaslighting, Superheroes, Whump, ignore the febuwhump tag i am a failure, still continuing it tho!, uhh please check trigger warnings, yes i didnt give them last names stfu i am dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mars_lave/pseuds/MarsInOrbit
Summary: Olive is the misguided sidekick to famed hero, Mirage, or Asena as she knows her. Her image of Asena and heroics as a whole begins to crack when she’s tasked with helping a villain and is suddenly immersed in a world where it kills to see things as so black and white.
Series: Kindle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2179293
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi lol. idk what to put here but welcome to my story i guess ! (???) hope you like it. 
> 
> CW: Very fucked view of selfishness, to say the least. Olive is a bit delusional but she's trying her best.

Olive huffed, closing her eyes briefly and trying to block out the chaos surrounding her. Her knees fell heavy to the ground. It was dizzying, everything seemed to set her off these days. Her body’s only reaction to panic seemed to be a sickly nausea that sept into her every pore, thick and slow like syrup. 

Her hands itched beneath the gloves, her powers craving to be unleashed in the sweeping panic that circled her every angle. She’d already overdone it yesterday, her torso bore the marks of that failure. A large burn crawled from her ribcage to her hip, another scar to add to the possibly 100s that laced her skin. Another failure to add to the stack.

She’d get better. There weren't any other options. Asena’s acceptance of her failure was simply a privilege, something that could be ripped away. She could not let herself be defined by her mistakes. You are what you produce, and if what you produce is not enough,  _ you _ were not enough. She wasn’t enough. 

Such a privilege was extended to her for reasons she couldn’t quite grasp. Maybe because technically, she was still learning. It was in a different sense than the other students, the ones she spotted in the hallways. Whom she wasn’t supposed to interact with, or even talk to. She wasn’t quite a student, though. She’d been put into work after only a couple months of training, at 16 years instead of the typical 20. It’s a heightened sense of responsibility, selfishness was barred. There were no breaks, no questions. They needed her to be a hero from the get-go. Reilent, capable, selfless. All things that no matter how hard she tried, she failed to be.

Some things were inherent, she guessed. Selflessness and calm seemed to come as easily as breathing to Asena, it was not a virtue but an expectation. If anything was inherent about Olive, she supposed it might be a weakness. Weakness in the face of anger, or selfishness, anything that was distasteful for the sidekick of such an important hero. 

She wanted to be so much more than she was, and yet here she was. Giving into her exhaustion and falling to the ground. Asena wouldn’t behave like this.  _ Get up _ . 

She could not bring her muscles to move, perhaps it was the hours fighting or the way her burn tugged with pain at every movement. The gravel dug into her skin. A hazy residue stuck to her thoughts, she swayed to the side and crashed against the ground.

It only took moments for Asena to walk up to her, her breath was fast, “Get up,” she snapped.

“Can’t,” Olive said, her voice small with shame. 

Asena crouched down, she tilted her head to meet Olive’s eyes, “That’s not an option. Up, now. This is your job - you’re not allowed to drop all responsibilities just because you’re feeling lazy.”

“I  _ can _ ’t,” she repeated, her body would not respond to any of her commands. 

“I have to do everything for you, don’t I?” she dug her hand into Olive’s hair, nails pulling at the strands, “You’re painfully incomptent.”

“No-” Olive choked out, she couldn’t cope with the aftermath of Asena’s powers. Mind control was viscous, no matter what the order given was. She always became so … violent under Asena’s powers. Asena always claimed that her powers brought out people’s buried urges, that Olive’s violence was only a result of her true self.

No wonder Asena disliked her. She had no use to object, it was kind of Asena to help her. It was her own fault whatever that help resulted in.

Aseena had warned her only to use her powers on villains, that it was unbecoming of a hero, or sidekick rather, to use them for anything other than helping others. She didn’t know what it meant for her, if Asena used her powers on Olive so much.

A label of a hero means nothing if beneath the mask, your soul matches one of a villain.

Asena’s powers slipped into her mind, foggy in the way you’d feel after putting your head under water for too long. She recognized Asena’s voice speaking but couldn’t quite process the exact words.

Time felt untrackable in the daze, the only way she realized she was moving was when pain shot through her nerves and the rush of wind in her hair. She tried to focus on her eyesight, it was the best shot she had at deciphering what was going on.

Everything blurred together, the attack was supposed to be quick. Ambush and restrain them, be done with it. The heroes hadn’t expected their fortitude, she guessed. Hadn’t considered anything other than absolute success. 

She caught up to her body, finding it was rushing after a tall man. Black dreadlocks trailed into blue at their ends, he wore a black jacket with white designs around the handles. She’d been fighting him early, she noted, if it even counted as much of a fight. More her defending his attacks and trying to predict the next place he’d teleport. So much for a ‘hero’.

Now she was being forced into the offensive, she wished she could be decent without Asena’s involvement. She was supposed to compliment and help Asena’s skills, not depend on them to do anything worthwhile.

The man hadn’t caught up to her yet, he was focused on looking around. His eyes darted across the many heroes. She blinked and in an instant was tackling him down, her powers ignited fire across the surface of her gloves. It danced upon them.

She was too small to do much other than crash into him, hand raised in a threat of pain. He met her gaze, the man elbowed her, throwing her off of him and crashing back onto the ground. Pain wracked through her side, she couldn’t acknowledge it through the control of Asena’s powers. 

Olive shot back up, fire still lacing her palms. She could feel the heat seeping into her finger tips,  _ shit _ , she knew that it was too soon to try again. Despite knowing it was fruitless, she screamed at her brain to stop.

The man tackled her to the ground, she raised her hand. Her fire seared at his skin, he cried out. Guilt wracked through her body, hurting more than any of the bruises or aches. Fuck,  _ fuck _ , she was just as bad as the villains.

He pulled back, shoving her hand to the ground, forcing her wrists to the ground, “Give it up!” he screamed, his voice cracked. Had she hurt him that badly? “What the hell do you want from us? We’re not - we did what you wanted.”

She just stared, unable to question what the hell he was talking about. She wasn’t told much about their missions, just that she had to fight. No wasn’t an option.    
  


“Huh?!” he yelled, Olive wanted to curl into herself. Or apologize. Apologizing usually helped somewhat when people were yelling. “ _ Everything _ we’ve done, all of it - has been your fault. It’s not on us that you all decide to fuck up!”   
  


Her fault? Olive’s stomach sank, she wanted to get away. Or fix this, something - just not whatever the hell was happening here. Her heart raced so fast she could hear it in her ears, pounding a frantic tune of terror. 

She kicked at him, not of her own accord. The kick was light, barely doing much. He threw a punch towards her. She wanted to cry, everything hurt and she could barely fight back. Whatever control Asena had over her couldn’t push past her body’s limits. He punched her shoulder again, then her stomach. All of them mindless, she wished unconsciousness would take her already. Asena’s retraining would hurt worse but at least she’d be able to fight back somewhat.

He stopped, breathing heavily, “Come on, fight back at least! You- what’s wrong with you?!” 

From this position she could see his eyes, they were watered up. He was… crying? She tried to open her mouth to speak up, forgetting briefly of her controlled status. He stared at her, his gaze trailing over her every feature. 

He pulled away from her, much to Olive’s shock. She wasn’t upset at it but ... confused. He grasped onto the front of her shirt, tugging her up. Olive fell back on the weight, unable to support herself. She swung out, Asena’s control kicking in still. It hit him weakly, he barely even reacted to it, too set on staring at her as if she had to answer to the afterlife.

“You’re Mirage’s sidekick, right?” He asked, not letting go of her. Mirage… ? Oh, Asena. All the Hero names were hard to keep track of when she was expected to address them by their legal names. “Why did she - you know,” he waved at her, “What’s the point?”

Anxiety struck at her chest, shit, At her lack of response he sighed, “Right,” he frowned at her. What was so upsetting to him? Did her control reveal something about Asena meant to be confidential? Had she failed again?

The man glanced up again, cursing as one of the heroes was thrown down, “We need to go,” he scooped her up, throwing her roughly over his shoulder and running.  _ We?! Since when were they a we?! _

Pain burned her vision white, fire started at her hands on instinct. The man hissed in pain, “ _ Stop _ !” He continued running away, her still hiked over his shoulder. 

She was carried off into a collapsed part of the building the heroes had invaded. Dirt wafted around, clogging up her airways. Then, as if it was never there, the control snapped away. It’d be comforting in any other scenario, but here it just meant that she was further from Asena. Yes, Asena would be disappointed in her for today but she was safer than Villains. Villains who would have no remorse or purpose to the pain she caused.

  
“N-no,” she managed out, it sounded less like a word and more like a thoughtless sound. “Lemme go.”

He relaxed slightly, “If you’re back, that means we’re safe.” There’s that ‘we’ again. As if she was one of them. Did he see through her? See the selfishness threaded between her every cell? It was too deep to take out, no matter how many times Asena tried to train it out of her.

“There’s no we,” she spat, it came out too quiet for her liking. Wavering as well, not intimidating.

The man dropped her down on the ground with little care. She squeaked as pain wracked through her body once more.

Tears budded at her eyes,  _ pathetic _ . The man glanced over, raising an eyebrow, “You hurt?”

She shook her head, admitting weakness to a villain was a poor idea.

“Stay still,” he sighed, he pressed his hands beneath her shirt and on her stomach where she’d been punched. She yelled out, unable to object, “Calm down, hero-brat, I’m helping you.” True to his word, a sort of chill flooded over her, tingling at her bruises, “I owe it to you, after hurting you while you were down.”

“Oh,” she whispered, that was… kind of him. Unnecessary but kind.“Th-thank you,” she frowned, hating that she thanked him. Politeness reigned over that hatred. “Why were you crying?” she asked, eager to change the topic.

He looked down, was he embarrassed? “People like you, or rather who you work with, have fucked me and my loved ones over too many times to count. Forgive me for wanting to act on that anger. It’s stressful.”

“So is hero-work,” she sniffled, “You choose this, you can’t complain about the consequences of your poor morals. Or.. not poor morals, maybe bad decisions,” someone with all poor morals wouldn’t be healing her.

“I could say the same about you,” he shrugged. Then he paused, “Or not, Mirage  _ did _ take control of you. What’s that about?” 

She tensed, “Why should I tell you?!”

He didn’t move, “Is it willing? You being a sidekick? Seems not, if she has to use her powers to get you to fight.”   
  


Well, she didn’t have many other options but that wasn’t the point. “She doesn’t have to always,” she spoke up, wanting to defend Asena, “I just … I couldn’t fight on my own. Was too tired, so she helped.”

The man blinked, “That’s still not great, you realize that, right? I don’t really know what I expected, to be honest. Either your morals are shitter than I thought or you’re delusional.”

She huffed, “My morals aren’t sh - bad.”

“You’re a hero,” he pointed out, as if that was much of a rebuttal.

“And?” she narrowed her eyes, a burst of pride erupted in her chest at being referred to as such Even if from a villain.“You’re a villain.”

“Exactly,” he shook his head, “Such arbitrary terms are the root of apathy.”

“Wh-what?” her voice was clogged up, much to her displeasure, “They’re  _ not _ , I’m not apathetic. And plus - you were just saying I had bad morals for being a hero!” Calling herself a hero felt like a lie.

“Don’t take it so personally, geez,” he waved his hand, wiping at his own tears. She envied his quick response to his sadness, though it was puzzling. How could he switch from such a strong emotion to a calm demeanor so quickly? Even the villain was better at resilience than her. “I mean, look at Mirage. She’s a ‘hero’ yes, yet she’ll almost kill her sidekick for the sake of some b-list villains.”

“She didn’t almost kill me…”

He shrugged, “You have a lot of injuries, you shouldn’t be fighting like this. A lot of them aren’t recent, you should be resting.”

She tilted her head, resting wasn’t an option, “I don’t? They’re just from training. I’m a hero, dealing with pain is part of the job.”

There was a moment of silence, she broke it, “Why are you even helping me? Don’t you need to help your villain friends?”

He rolled his eyes at her phrasing, “I’ll just be a liability if I try to intervene.” He ignored her other question. He pulled his hand away, the pain around her torso still ached but lesser so. He shook his head, “Listen, kid, we … this isn’t all there is, you know? If you want to help people, you can do it without destroying yourself. Or other people for that matter, heroism isn’t as righteous of a path that you may think it is. Here,” he pulled a notepad from one of his pockets and scribbled something down, he handed it to her, it was a phone number.“Can you do me a favor? In exchange for me uh, healing you.”

She paused, then nodded, she feared his response if she said no.

“I have a friend, last time Mirage attacked, someone took him. I know he’s not being given a trial, I don’t know what - he’s short. Kind of scrappy looking, brown hair, I just need to know he’s alive,” the man said, “That’s it. Don’t try to track the phone, it’s a burner. If you don’t reply, I’ll assume he’s dead.”

“O-okay,” she whispered, not quite sure if she was going to follow through on this or not.

“Okay?” he sighed, relaxing slightly. She tried to sit up, only to topple over again, unable to support herself on such little energy, “They’ll find you here, don’t stress,” he paused, “And  _ thank you _ .”

Olive watched as he ran off, not quite sure how to feel. For a villain, he seemed so painfully human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lying only for yourself was a villainous act and yet, if she had been so selfish already what was one more thing? She didn’t quite understand how more training, more bruises, would take away those inner desires. It just seemed to feed them, rather. Maybe Asena was going about this wrong, even if she claimed - even if she did know better, after two years none of it was working.
> 
> Or Olive has a crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter whooo im late
> 
> CW:Terrible view of weakness, selfishness, and abuse in general as well as manipulation that I think (?) borders on gaslighting

Olive curled up on her bed, eyeing the piece of paper laying on her blankets. She was dressed in the same clothes she had been in for the mission despite the hours between its end. Her memories faded towards when the villain had left, only flashes of arms dragging her out and the soft haziness of her bedsheets.

She guessed it had been a couple hours, at least. The small window towards the ceiling of her room was a dark blue, it lit the small room in an eerie light, more prominent due to the lack of any other light sources. She hadn’t gotten up yet to stretch, let alone flick on a light.

No one must’ve looked her over much if they neglected to find the scrap of paper lodged beneath her company bracelet. The bracelet was a thick thing, to be fair, it had to hold a long-range tracker inside of it, and they didn’t have any reason to look her over. She had just been lazy, not hurt. 

The villain had said she shouldn’t have been fighting on those injuries, maybe he was right, she wasn’t capable of doing much all bruised and sleepless. It was something she had to push past, yes, but practice for pushing past that shouldn’t have been in a battle ground where her incompetence wasn’t a matter of passing a test but protecting others’ lives. 

Why was she focusing too hard on a villain’s opinion, anyway? Just because it was a … different one from what she was used to, didn’t mean it held any weight. He could’ve been trying to manipulate her, or something. She didn’t know. His quickly changing emotions were another thing that gave fault to his argument, how could he complain about injuries when he added to them?

Still. 

Dwelling on such thoughts only fed into her selfishness, didn’t it? Heroes don’t bite the hand that feeds them, they don’t complain about having to do work. Olive looked away from the phone number, a sudden guilt settling into her stomach. She couldn’t tell Asena about it.

Lying only for yourself was a villainous act and yet, if she had been so selfish already what was one more thing? She didn’t quite understand how more training, more bruises, would take away those inner desires. It just seemed to feed them, rather. Maybe Asena was going about this wrong, even if she claimed - even if she  _ did _ know better, after two years  _ none _ of it was working.

Or maybe Olive was just defective. Maybe Asena would realize that soon enough and throw her away, no one wanted someone so clearly inclined towards cruelty as a sidekick. She was 17, it would be a year or so until Asena didn’t have any legal obligations over her. That could be the end. She wouldn’t even be able to blame anyone other than herself.

Olive’s heart sped up, she didn’t want to be alone again. She’d spent too many years unwanted, passed around foster homes without anyone who cared. Asena wasn’t… she wasn’t family, per say, but she did worry about Olive. She taught her and tried her best to lead Olive onto a good path. That was something no one else had given her before. She didn’t know if anyone else would again besides Asena.

The woman was kind, so kind to even acknowledge her, and here she was wasting away - trying to decide whether or not it was a good idea to betray the one person who’d given her  _ everything _ for some villain she’d spent five minutes with.

No wonder nobody wanted her. Even someone as selfless and strong as Asena was growing tired with her constant disappointments. 

Olive stared at the phone number, it seemed to stare back. The actual paper didn’t matter much by now, she’d memorized the digits after what must’ve been at least a half-hour of staring at it. 

Even if she did tell Asena, who would it help? The villain had said it was a burner phone, useless to be tracked.  _ He could’ve lied _ . She swallowed, he said heroism wasn’t righteous. She wasn’t a fool to believe that all heroes were deserving of that title, look at herself, but it … it was honorable if not righteous. He was wrong about that. Asena would call him delusional.

He didn’t seem so delusional but desperate. Those crazed tears in his eyes, the fact that he gave his number out, even if a burner phone, to the sidekick of such an important hero as Mirage. He was risking a lot and just for the chance to know if someone was alive, he risked so much just for love, she guessed. You wouldn’t go so far for a person unless you needed someone from them or needed them.

Those were both types of love, though. If she thought about it like that - Asena must love her in some sort of way. She fumbled with the blankets, it was very much a sign of her own villainous nature if she sympathised so much with one. Yet,  _ still _ , it wasn’t hurting anyone? If she just checked to see if the man was alive?

Villainy was not an honorable path, yes, but people were more than just the paths they chose. Asena being such an embodiment of a hero was an exception, not the rule. Olive showed that, if anyone, for she was only hero-like in the face of true desperation, or under the direct control of Asena. This sympathy may be misplaced but it would just feel so  _ wrong _ to ignore such a selfless act. Perhaps the villain was similar to her, hero-like in his love in the face of desperation. Who would she be if not to recognize that? It was a more selfish act, more villain-like to not help someone than it was to, even if that someone was a villain. 

Even if she knew that Asena would scorn her for it. 

Well, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Olive didn’t have to tell her everything, withholding this information wouldn’t hurt anyone _-_ _if the villain wasn’t lying, that is, but she didn’t want to think about that -_ or aid in anything. She thought, at least, it could be helpful to know that the villains cared so much for their teammate and - nope. The only way she could help someone is if she did what the villain said. Heroes helped people regardless of background, heroes were not selfish enough to let their own biases get in the way of aiding people in need. 

So, Olive snatched up the paper, this was the only good decision here. Even if she had to lie, no, withhold information, it was for a better cause. It was selfless to put herself at risk for the betterment of others. All the values that Asena had practically beat into her said to help in a situation like this, uh, ignoring all the commentary on the vileness of villains, of course. Even if her instincts screamed to throw out the number and try to push the incident from her mind, instincts were often wrong. They often told her to run or cower, selfish things, so they must be wrong this time as well.

It was only logical.

The doorknob rattled, Olive snapped up. Shit. She shot up, almost falling over herself as Asena entered. She straightened, looking at her chin so she could see her but not meeting her eyes. It’d be disrespectful to do as such. 

Asena’s curly orange hair was tied in a bun, thick glasses sat on the bridge of her nose and a formal jacket across her shoulders. It was a sharp contrast to Olive’s muddled appearance; her blond hair ruffled by sleep and dressed in a uniform that still had dried blood in some creases.

“Olive,” she sighed, “How do you … I gave you  _ one _ job, what’s going on with you lately?”

Guilt curdled in her stomach, “I tried,” she managed, voice struggling to vocalize itself.

“Trying isn’t enough, you know this by now,” Asena said, she shifted her weight, “You need to succeed for your actions to actually have weight. You can’t fail to save someone’s life and excuse it while you were ‘trying’. Even so, I don’t think you were. You collapsed after what, three hours?”

_ And seven prior of training _ , “I  _ did  _ try,” she insisted, “I can’t - I did all that I could’ve. I um, I hadn’t um slept and -” she thought of the villain’s words, “I was injured and um -”

“So you had a bad day, that doesn’t mean you can abandon all your responsibilities. You’re supposed to be able to fight regardless, this is your job or have you forgotten that?” she said, voice as steady as ever, “I’d think your pain tolerance would be better after all of your training.”

Olive tensed at the memory, “I’m -I’m sorry, I don’t -”

“I’m not done,” she snapped, “Listen to me, really, not just think of excuses while I speak.” She sighed, “You’re exhausting to be around. You have the potential to be worth something, potential means nothing if you don’t put in the effort. I am, to try and help you, even after all this time. Why can’t you return the favor?”   
  


“I -”

Asena shot her a look before she could finish, “I have put so much work into you, prove to me that it was worth it, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t give you a larger responsibility, your failure here still has harmed someone. Since you couldn’t restrain even  _ one _ villain, they’re only going to hurt other people. That blood is on your hands, on your incompetence,” she pushed her glasses further up her nose with another short sigh, “I’m going to need to retrain you for pain management, this isn’t acceptable in any shape or form. You’re not working hard enough.”

Olive’s heart raced, no, no she couldn’t do that again. She  _ was  _ working hard, she was putting everything into this, “I am!” her eyes welled up with tears, “I don’t know  _ why _ this keeps happening but I’m trying so hard. I promise I’m trying my best.”   
  


“Well then maybe your best isn’t enough,” Asena spat, “And stop crying, you’re not a child. You can’t have a breakdown at every little criticism, this is for your improvement, not mine. I don’t  _ need _ to be doing this, you’re making me with every failure.”

Olive wiped at her tears, trying to blink them back. She nodded, tilting her head down so Asena would see less of her. “Tha-thank you.”

Asena paused, “Don’t tell me, show me. You clearly aren’t grateful if you insist on caving at every little discomfort. Straighten up, if you can’t even meet the bare minimum at least pretend you are. I don’t need such an embarrassment as a sidekick, it speaks ill of my teaching if my student is a selfish, crying, brat.”

Olive stiffened, forcing herself to look up again. Her heart wrenched at the words, physically aching throughout her entire being.  _ Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry _ . She wasn’t ever going to be enough, not for Asena, not to be worth something other than a drain on everyone’s resources. She couldn’t take it anymore, the constant failures and work and -  _ stop being selfish _ . She was a hero, or at least was supposed to be one, heroes didn’t constantly fuck up and when they did, they didn’t pity themself for it. The work was nothing, it was her duty to help others who had it worse than just her succumbing to her laziness. 

Asena watched for a second, “I have work to do, we can train in the morning, Be something this time, okay?” She looked Olive over before turning around and shutting the door with a click. 

“Mhm,” Olive nodded in agreement, voice clogged with tears. She was too weak to swallow them all back. There was so much of her that she wasn’t allowed to be, so much digging under her skin that she couldn’t hold back. For all that she called herself a hero, she was more similar to the villains that Asena would scorn. Poor Asena, to have a villain-like girl as a sidekick. 

She had to be better, no other options. Olive physically trembled with the weight of holding back her tears. She would be better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She froze, “Hello?” she said again, her voice more strained this time. The room began to form around her, eyes newly adjusting to the darker atmosphere. A figure hung from the ceiling, held up by ropes tied roughly around his wrists, the remains of it hanging behind him. His chest was bare, faint cuts ran along his torso, some were partially scabbed over. He lifted his head, hair ruffled around his eyes. His entire body ran limp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait (this is only @ayden as they're the only one reading lmao ily ayden ty for reading )
> 
> CW : Description of a panic attack, denial of abuse, victim blaming, fucky view of selfishness (this should be a tag at this point smh)

The phone number weighed heavy in her pocket, new sweatpants instead of the dirtied uniform. Olive walked down the hallway, her flat blond hair sticking to the back of her neck with the dry-wet feel of a half hour after a shower. Her footsteps made a soft pat against the floor, barley audible due to the quiet nature of her sandals.

The hallway was painfully clean, any sign of life scrubbed from its walls with a seemingly aggressive passion. There were photos and some newspapers framed, monuments of the heroes that the students were to look up to. 

She was still placed in the student wing, despite her sidekick status. There wasn’t any space for her somewhere else, the heroes didn’t consider her one of them nor did the students. She was inferior on both tracks. It was okay, though, she had Asena. Heroics wasn’t a route for friendship, it was for protecting others. Keeping them safe, not herself.

She didn’t stay much in the student wing of the building, though, it felt suffocating with all its’ inspiration. All its reminders of how she was not enough. Her exploration came in handy here, navigating the walls of the agency’s building was something that came as second nature to her. It was safe when the place was asleep, she didn’t have to consider the judgement of others too harshly when the only one watching was the security cameras. 

Olive headed towards the curve of the hallway, stepping through a section of windowed walls and onto an elevator. The heights made her feel slightly ill, due to the transparent nature of the elevator, the entire city could be viewed if she looked through. She felt small up there, important. For all her worries over not being needed, it was nice to just feel like another cog in the machine. Another thing twisting and turning and part of a group. To just be another person, not Olive, not Asena’s sidekick. 

The sick feeling in her stomach was almost grounding, a reminder she was alive. That she existed beyond heroics and saving others. Not so different from those below, even if she couldn’t interact with them much beyond protecting them.

She wasn’t too good at that either, though.

Olive pressed her face to the window, trying to count all the lit up windows. An entire little world all in one person, all in one room living their own lives. She waved at the window, then looked down, blushing. No one could see her from up here. They’d probably be creeped out at her staring, anyway. She frowned.

She doubted any of them would like her much, a person made up of failures would not succeed in relationships. There was no use of fantasy when she knew it’d never come true, it'd only make her upset. It was stupid to be upset over the effects of her own actions. Selfish, one may say, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. No one owed her kindness, it was something that she was made to give, not receive.

The elevator stopped with a quiet ding, the seventh floor. Or rather, where her best guess for where the villain was. Anxiety swept through her stomach as she entered, memories flooding through of her initial ‘pain tolerance’ training. Some villains, or criminals in general rather, were kept down there while awaiting trial. 

She’d been given the training at the start, when she was first placed with Asena. Only a year or so a go, the memories burned fresh into her mind. She’d have to do it again soon.  _ Don’t think of that _ . She had a mission at hand, she couldn’t get caught up in her fear. Heroes were brave.

Heroes didn’t back down at any little sign of discomfort.

Asena could be mad about this but… if she was uncomfortable, that must be a good sign! Everytime she gave into her comfort, it seemed to lead to a downward spiral of selfishness. She was getting tired of that word, it reverberated around her skull so often it started to sound less like a word and just some mindless sound.

Asena’s training had to work. Not just for Olive’s validity as a good person but for everyone’s expectations of her. Even if that meant more pain tolerance training. She’d be strong. 

_ Focus on the mission, Olive _ . She only had a couple hours to find the man, make sure it was the  _ right _ man, find a way to call the villain without being caught, and then get back to her room quick enough to pretend she’d been there all night.

Simple enough.

At least no fighting would be involved here. She hoped, at least.

Olive hurried down the hall, trying to push aside her straying thoughts and stay focused on what was in front of her. The halls were darker, doors farther apart and less elevators leading there. It wasn’t supposed to be a place people frequented.

She glanced at the doors, would she have to check every one of them? She approached one of them gingerly, rattling her knuckles against the wood of the front side. The door pressed open a bit, it was unlocked. She let out a small gasp, peeking in.

The room was familiar, a medical cot built into the wall of the room below a thick beam filled with cords hanging down from it. There were some bulky devices hanging from a couple of the cords as well as straps. Similar straps were aligned along the cot. A chair was shoved in the corner, purple cushions against the tan painted walls. A clipboard was attached to the wall, scribbles of names of those who’d been in and out pressed against the paper. A thin layer of dust lingered on the doorknob facing inside.

Olive’s breath caught in her throat. She practically fell back, heart beating so fast it was dizzying. She slammed herself against the other side of the hallway, her head hitting the wall. She focused on the rough pain of hitting the wall instead of the spark-like memories coming back full force with no filter.  _ Don’t think about it, don’t think about it _ . She was okay, she didn’t - she was okay. 

Breathing came in shakily, rattling in her chest and against her ribcage with the calm of a hurricane. Olive forced herself to her feet, heroes didn’t stop at the first sign of discomfort. She shook, pressing a hand to the wall, she wasn’t even going in there.  _ Not yet _ . It was okay, she assured. 

Her vision blurred, stumbling against the wall. She knocked her head against the doors she passed by, not bothering to look inside if it was unlocked.  _ It was okay _ . She was just walking down the hallway, that was it. The walls were grey, she could feel the way her socks curled up a little at the heel and how her hair was beginning to fluff up now that it had dried. 

She knocked her head against another door, the ache not going away from her continued use of going through them. This one didn’t budge at her knocking. She stepped back, taking her hand away from the wall. It creaked slightly after being in the same position for so long. The door was the same as the others, just shut this time.

She jammed at the doorknob, it clicked open with a small ‘snap’. The room was dark, more rough around the edges and unlike the ones she was familiar to. Olive swallowed her nerves and took a step in. 

“Hello?” she asked, the volume barely above a whisper. She held herself tense, it was too dark to see anything just yet. Squinting her eyes, she tried to make out the surrounding room. Someone else sucked in a breath, someone who distinctly was not her.

She froze, “Hello?” she said again, her voice more strained this time. The room began to form around her, eyes newly adjusting to the darker atmosphere. A figure hung from the ceiling, held up by ropes tied roughly around his wrists, the remains of it hanging behind him. His chest was bare, faint cuts ran along his torso, some were partially scabbed over. He lifted his head, hair ruffled around his eyes. His entire body ran limp.

He flinched when he saw her, Olive flinched back as well at such a reaction.  _ Was this the villain’s friend?!  _

“I’m not going to fucking talk,” his voice was hoarse, strung with exhaustion. She just stared, wide eyed. She’d have to let him down or something, had to  _ move _ . Heroes helped people, he seemed to be in dire need of it. 

She couldn’t bring herself to move, she’d done it. Found the guy, all she had to do was call the man. 

Right. Just.. walk away

She took a step back before stopping herself. If he was tied up there, it must be for good reason. He was a  _ villain _ . The heroes probably knew about it and they were right. They were good and intelligent and morally strong inherently instead of having to force themself to be. That meant there was a good reason for this treatment. Still, it seemed so inhumane. He said he wouldn’t talk, maybe that was the purpose of it? She felt slightly nauseous, how could they hurt someone in such a way? Even if for a better cause it was - 

Maybe their decision was a poor one, this time. Asena - Asena would be proud if she helped someone. She’d be happy if she didn’t have to  _ tell _ Olive to do something for her to do it. This was good. She was being a good hero.

She took a step forward, still tense, “I’m going to get you down,” she said with newfound determination. 

He jerked back, a wince clear on his face from the movement, “ _ No! _ I’m not going to be - I’m not going to talk, you piece of shit! Was the past four hours not enough?”

She shook slightly at the yelling, “I don’t - I’m - I want to help!”

He studied her face, still tense, “Who the hell are you?”

“Olive,” she looked up at him, curling back slightly. This was a dumb idea. “I’m - your friend sent me,” it was kind of true, “He has um, blue hair?”

“Angelo?”

Olive was already moving on, tugging at the rope hanging down his back to slowly lower him. It strained her muscles. He yelled out.

“How do I know - how do I know you’re not lying?” he huffed, eyes narrowed.

She fumbled, pulling the ropes down. He relaxed slightly, arms shooting to his side. He laid on his side despite the roughness of the floor. She kneeled down next to him, pulling out the piece of paper, “He gave me this,” she whispered. 

He didn’t respond for a solid minute, she stayed quiet. She wished she could do something to ease that pain. What the villain - or Angelo, rather, had done. That power seemed amazing, much more heroic than a fire she could barely control.

“Um -”

He blinked awake, “Right,” his eyes flicked around before focusing on the paper, then back at Olive, “I don’t have any other choices, do I ? This isn’t proof.”

That sounded  _ terrible _ , she didn’t mean to sound so forceful, “I just want to get you out,” she whispered, this had changed from a simple ‘call and say he’s alive’. Though, that hadn’t felt too simple either. “This - nobody should be hurt like this.”

He stared for a moment, “If you want to so badly, what’re we doing standing around?”

Olive’s eyes widened, “Oh ! Right, we should go, before uh, the building opens.”

He huffed, pulling himself up to his knees, “You lead the way, Olive,” he swayed on his feet. Olive moved forward, wrapping an arm around his torso. He towered over them by a couple inches but they were more similar in height than not.

It was odd how helping a villain was a heroic act. Heroes weren’t so cut and dry, you couldn’t pick and choose who you saved based on personal bias. It was unloving, ungrateful, but needed work.

So she hoisted the man up and walked out, praying to any upper source that her morals were correct this time.

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Since you’ve decided to act like a villain, you’re going to be treated one like too. Don’t act so surprised,” Asena spoke up. Olive met her eyes, why couldn’t she stop shaking, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t - “I’ve spoiled you, that’s my fault. Given you too many chances.”
> 
> She didn’t want to die, please, please, “I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible, “I - “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops. im late as hell again. 
> 
> CW: Terrible view of self, abuse, gaslighting

Ancil grabbed onto Olive’s wrist, forcing it behind her back and pinning her to the floor roughly. He stayed there for a moment, giving her the chance to try and overpower the hero. She did nothing, closing her eyes momentarily and taking in the brief relief of being given a moment to breath. Ancil scoffed and loosened his grip. Olive stayed still as he stood up, annoyance practically radiating off of him.

Ancil was the easiest out of all the heroes for training, the least rough with her. He was patient with her, teaching her how she could have won. “If she just put in the effort.” However hard she tried never seemed to be enough, she was  _ tired _ of fighting when it ended badly when she pushed or fell limp.

Tiredness was only a result of her weakness; a pathetic brat who couldn’t just be grateful for the opportunities given to her. 

Maybe she really wasn’t cut out for this, maybe it was something inherent. A lack of value as deep as her cells, tracing through her blood, intoxicating in its’ nature of making her slip into the tight holds of her desires. Drowning in the choking relief that was a breath of air, stealing it from the ones already choking. She had to be strong, force her feeble muscles to hold on because falling meant disappointing everyone. It meant letting down Asena and all she’d done for her.

“Up,” Ancil snapped, his hands brushed against his pants, wiping sweat off his palms in preparation of the next fight. This was never ending, wasn’t it?

She couldn’t bring herself to move, exhaustion clinging through her body with a stubbornness she only wished she could put towards heroics. Things were building up, she guessed. Last night didn’t help. It was a stressful thing to have to drag an injured villain twice your size through thoroughly occupied hallways. One too loud breath would have sent the entire mission spiraling. 

But it hadn’t. 

She’d dropped the injured villain near a phone booth, gave him the original villain’s number, some change, and ran for it. He was … probably okay, right? She hadn’t meant to be neglectful with him, it didn’t matter so much. He had friends that would probably go pick him up or something and now she didn’t have to think about it ever again.

Despite this fact, her brain had decided to center in on it as if it was some life-threatening thing. Guilt burned through her, heavy and suffocating with every step. She had to bear it, there were no good options. She refused to let someone suffer. Though, his lack of suffering may cause more pain to others …

She hated this, she  _ hated _ it. Why was doing the right thing so hard for her? Was this just something that happened to her or was it this difficult for everyone?

“ _ Olive! _ ” Ancil said, voice much sharper. 

Olive shut her eyes, “I can’t get up.”

“You can, pull yourself together,” he huffed.

She sucked in a breath, willing her body to work with her for once. Push past the bruises and stress just like a hero would.  _ Get up _ .

The door clicked open, taking away from her self-centered anger. Asena walked through the doorway, glasses perched upon the bridge of her nose and a sharpness to her gaze. She didn’t stop at Ancil or even speak, just ripping Olive up from the ground. Her nails dug into Olive’s elbow. Olive suppressed a yelp of pain.

“Wh-” 

“Shut up,” Asena spat,  _ what had Olive done?! _ She ignored Ancil and Olive’s confusion, practically dragging her out of the room. She stumbled after her, struggling to find her balance as Asena sped ahead with no care for Olive’s shorter legs.

“Asena?” she tried, her voice shaking much to her dismay, “What’s going on?”   
  
“I told you to  _ shut up _ , are you too unintelligent to even do that?” her grip tightened, Olive winced, her guilt seemed to grow stronger. It was nauseating. 

“Sorry.”

Asena shot her a glare, Olive winced hard. Enough to tug back against Asena’s hold. Her grip seemed to burn into Olive’s wrist. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, blood rushing through her brain. Her wrist trembled under Asena’s hold.

Asena dragged her down the hallway, it was relatively empty. Olive avoided the gazes of ongoing walkers, she didn’t want to face their confusion or scorn at being treated so roughly by a hero. She couldn’t answer their question of what she had done either.

It was all the mistakes piling up, all the failures and selfishness. The uselessness.

Asena practically threw her into the elevator, she let go of her wrist and pressed the button for the seventh floor. Olive pressed herself against the elevator wall, as far as she could away from Asena.

_ Fuck _ .

She shouldn’t curse, shouldn’t be scared. Asena had already said she needed more training for her poor pain tolerance, she didn’t know what she expected,  _ she deserved this, she was scared, she couldn’t do this- _

“Since you’ve decided to act like a villain, you’re going to be treated one like too. Don’t act so surprised,” Asena spoke up. Olive met her eyes,  _ why couldn’t she stop shaking, she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t -  _ “I’ve spoiled you, that’s my fault. Given you too many chances.”

_ She didn’t want to die, please, please _ , “I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible, “I - “

“Did I say you could speak? Disrespectful brat,” she scoffed, “I let you in my home, put a roof over your head, give you food and training and - this is how I’m repaid? Do you know how hard I work for you?!”   
  


She did, she did, she was trying. She’d be better. Why couldn’t any of them see she was trying? She put everything into it. It wasn’t enough,  _ she _ wasn’t enough. Just a disgusting villain worming her way into the ranks of those good.

“Are you crying, really?” Asena raised an eyebrow, “You don’t get to be upset at this.”

“So-sorry.”   
  


Asena was practically radiating anger, “You’re clearly not, if you haven’t changed.” The elevator binged at its stop. Olive pressed herself against the elevator wall, she squeezed her eyes shut. She was subsequently thrown over Asena’s shoulder with little care. “I’m giving you one more mission,” she said, not caring for Olive practically hyperventilating over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry -”   
  


Asena cut her off, “Even  _ you _ could do this one, you can’t fuck it up. Thank me for that,” Olive shook with the weight of holding back her tears. “Since you seem to like to associate yourself and act like one, you’ll be joining them.”   
  
“Wh-what?” her voice cracked.

“You’re going to be my mole,” she pressed open one of the doors.  _ No, no, no - _

Asena tossed her on the cot in the room. A familiar setting to the one she’d seen the prior night. Olive scrambled away from her, shaking hard with panic. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t, she couldn’t.

Asena moved quickly, grabbing her wrist again and strapping one of the restraints around it. Olive screamed, losing all her composure.    
  
“Please, please, no, I can’t - please, you can’t do this, please, I’m sorry,” she babbled, no longer caring as tears slipped from her eyes, “I’ll be better. I won’t be selfish.”

“It’s too late,” she adjusted more restraints, tying the thick leather around Olive’s ankles. Olive screamed again, heart racing through her chest. “Shut up! What’s wrong with you?” she slapped her check, “I’m helping you here, once more. Villains won’t care so much about how things hurt you, I need to prepare you.”   
  


“No, no, no,” Olive pulled at the restraints, “Please, I’m sorry, please.”

“No one cares, stop yelling. I’m hardly hurting you, it’s not my fault you act like this,” Asena paused, “I need to stop being so charitable with people like  _ you _ .” She tugged on the chords above, tucking them near the restraints, “Maybe if I’d been harsher you wouldn’t have turned out this way.”   
  


Olive tried to breath through her panic, “Is-is this because I helped that man?”   
  
“What else would it be?” she spat, “Did you seriously forget we have security cameras?”  _ No, she just didn’t think they were checked regularly. _ “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? No one knows what he’ll do if let loose. You’re just as bad as him.”

“He was hurt,” she managed through her tears,    
  
“And for good reason,” Asena began adjusting some buttons on the beam above them, “He’s a  _ villain _ , he’s hurt people. He doesn’t deserve decency. It’s like when you get hurt in training, it’s for the better. I expected better than you.”

“I - I didn’t want to,” she sobbed, “I thought we’re supposed to help people no matter what. That’s what you told me.”   
  
“Don’t you  _ dare _ try to pin this on me!” Asena snapped, Olive flinched, “I have done nothing but help you, nothing but been kind and you repay me with this? You repay me with claiming it’s my fault you’re stupid enough to let a villain free?”

“I - no, I didn’t mean it -”   
  
“Shut up,” she reached up, flicking one of the buttons on the beam. Olive tensed, electricity coursed through her body. Her vision burned pure white. 

Pain strung through her every nerve, never ending. She couldn’t see Asena or the walls or the chair’s purple cousions. She couldn’t  _ breathe _ . 

There was nothing left of her, shriveled up and turned to ash under the will of the electricity. It destroyed her, turning her skin and arms and thighs to charcoal, falling apart into the cot’s sheets and dirtying them with the remains of a failed hero. If she could even call herself that. 

The electricity clicked off, pain ran through her body. Less fresh, her heart raced. She couldn’t speak, you get feeling rubbery in her mouth. 

Asena was watched down at her, gaze full with disappointment. Her hand still wavering over the switch. 

She was  _ nothing _ , a pathetic excuse for a hero. A mistake and failure so cruel that even a hero as good as Asena couldn’t forgive her. 

Why couldn’t she ever be enough?

And it  _ hurt _ so much worse than any electricity to know how much she’d failed Asena. Asena who’d give her everything and still had enough hope in her to send her on one last mission. 

“We’re going to continue until you stop screaming,” Asena clicked the switch again and the agony began again. 

It didn’t end. 

She had no control over her screaming, she couldn’t even  _ shut up _ . Her vision stirred into a spotty black and unconiousnes took her, she fell into it with much relief. 

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Olive’s newly blue hair sat wet against her neck, pressing into the metal choker tight around her throat. She starred in the mirror, holding tight onto the sink for support. She felt sick and tired in her every cell. Everything was going so fast before she could catch up to it. Her heart was still racing from the past night and well, the morning really. Asena didn’t stop until Olive felt herself fall into that familiar state of no longer having the energy to react to her instincts. To scream, to run, to fight. It’d just be too much.

The choker was new as well, it felt more like a collar than anything. Designed to keep track of her while going in. Asena didn’t plan to interact with her directly, rather using the collar to record any audio and sending it back. Doubled as making sure Olive wouldn’t run off. 

She’d never. She had been given this chance to regain Asena’s trust, if even somewhat. Prove that she was something worthwhile or rather stay away long enough that Olive’s rougher parts grew foggy in Asena’s mind.

“Hey, love?” Diana glanced over, she was short and stocky, a lower hero in the ranks who’d been unable to move up and too strong to fall back. She’d offered to help Olive with changing her appearance for the mission after seeing her initial attempt at dying her hair. She was just waiting for her to ask a favor or something in return, the generosity was odd.”Olive?” Diana asked again.

She snapped back, tensing briefly, oh, was she ‘love?’ “Yes?” 

“Time to wash it out,” she smiled at her, so  _ cheerful _ . It was unnerving, if anything. She adjusted the gloves around her pale skin, stained with blue dye. Her own hair was a canopy of colors, Olive had noted seeing it change in various ways over the past two or so years she’d been there. 

Olive nodded slowly and watched as Diana turned on the shower, “Kneel down, head over,” she motioned towards her. She stumbled forward, ducking her head and squeezing her eyes shut so that the dye wouldn’t drip in. “Atta girl,” She mumbled. 

The water spluttered out for a couple moments before Diana aimed it on her head, cold water trickled over her scalp and down her spine. Diana shook her hair, her long nails scratched against Olive’s scalp in a motion that was somewhat comforting. Olive found herself leaning towards it before realizing and blushing, hard.

“Your room is kind of bare,” Diana said, her voice was loud. It felt especially odd given the quiet her room typically bathed itself in, “Do you not have any interests or something?”

“What-what do you mean?” Olive squeaked.

“You just have standard issue stuff,” Diana squeezed her hair out, “You know, the basics that they put in every room?” She tied Olive’s hair into a knot with a thin band.

“Am I supposed to have something else?” Olive glanced up as Diana shut off the water.

Diana stared for a moment, “I mean, it’s your room, is it not? Wouldn’t you - “ she shook her hand, “Nevermind,” she grabbed a towel, wrapping it roughly around Olive’s head. She ignored her flinching at the sudden movements and dragged off her gloves, flicking them into the small trash can by the sink.

Olive nodded slowly, feeling a trickle of shame press against her shoulders at Diana’s confusion. What was wrong with her room? What would she even  _ put _ in it besides the ‘standard issue stuff”? 

“Thank you,” she whispered, abrupt, “For dying it for me.”

Diana ran her hands under the sink water, rubbing off the dye that had seeped through her cheap gloves, “You’re helping me more than I am you. I’ve never used this brand before so,” she shrugged, “It’s an experiment.”

Olive glanced in the mirror again, wanting to evaluate the dye for her, “It’s ...bright,” she had no experience with this type of thing. 

“It’ll look different when it dries,” Diana wiped her hands dry, “Is bright a problem?”

“I think um, I’m supposed to blend in,” Olive started, choosing her words carefully in the hope of not upsetting Diana, “So.. maybe - it’s fine! Sorry.”

“Well,” Diana tilted her head, “You already blend in a bit already. Standing out is what’s going to make you look different, not another natural shade, you know?”

Olive nodded, despite having no idea what she was talking about. She’d never been undercover much, only momentarily in some missions. 

Nothing so long term or serious. Nothing that had a 90% chance of getting her killed. Asena was kind, she was giving her the chance for selfless death at least. Instead of succumbing and collapsing to her own weakness, she was being put in the place where she could be remembered fondly after death.

Olive just wished she could have that without having to fall apart, that she could have love for her and not what she could do. Those luxurious were simply gifted to those who didn’t have to  _ try _ to be a decent person. 

“You’ll be okay,” Diana plopped down on Olive’s bed, moving past her. It was as if she picked up on Olive’s spiraling. She glanced up, taking a moment to process the words. It was clear to anyone that she wouldn’t be. Asena didn’t care for her safety and neither would the villains, no one besides her. And she wasn’t allowed to do that. 

Was she trying to comfort Olive? That was… it felt wrong. She probably just didn’t want her to start crying or be annoying so Olive simply smiled, “Thank you.”

“No worries, hun,” she patted the seat next to her, gesturing for Olive to join next to her, “You should get some rest soon. Big day tomorrow,” she smiled as if it was some exciting thing.  
“Y-yeah, big,” Olive said, voice quivering. “Yay…”

She chuckled, Olive laid down, curling up over the covers so as to not upset Diana. The woman in question sighed and patted her shoulder. She dragged one of the blankets up and placed it on Olive, much to her surprise. She stared for a moment, hoping that this whole interaction had not been a test. Despite Diana’s claims, there wasn’t much she’d gain from this. 

Had Olive made a mistake? She traced over the past events, trying to think of something Asena would get upset at. The laying down?! 

Instead Diana flicked off the lights and shut the door, all gentle touches and voices. Olive couldn’t help the sickness lingering in her stomach. She curled around it, not wanting to continue choking on Diana’s unnerving nature, or tomorrow or the way she could no longer recognize herself when she looked in the mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you liked it!


End file.
